In My Seat
by YouGottaSingAlong
Summary: The Doctor bumps into a former companion... and meets a future one? An alien fire dies from disease and the Doctor needs to find out why.
1. Malto bene

_Disclaimer: I own neither Doctor Who or 9 To 5 The Musical. I do own Reilly._

_---------------------------_

The Doctor flipped out the psychic paper in a man's face, The man read off it, "Stage Maintenance Inspector? Um, where are you meant to be sir?"

The Doctor slapped it against his leg, it could have just made a ticket, _stupid device was meant to have a lifetime warranty. Why you should never trust a 51__st__ Century salesman._ "Dress Circle today, my good fella."

The man nodded, "That way sir." Pointing at a cluster of people around a surprisingly small door. The Doctor thanked him and walked over to the crowd, "'Scuse me, Stage Maintenance... Sorry gents.... Could I just get past ma'am? Stage Inspectorate...."

The Doctor collapsed into an unfilled seat, and watched as the hall filled around him, a man walked up to him, "What do you think you're doing on my seat?"

The Doctor turned, his mouth dropped open. He shifted along one seat, looking away, in an evident attempt to cover his shock. He never quite got used to the human aging process, he knew them and then, ten years later he came across them again and their skin had withered, or sagged. Sure enough she, like Sarah Jane still looked wonderful but... She was older.

_But, _he reminded himself,_ I've been places where she's dust, less than dust. At least she's alive._

He watched her greet a man, who looked slightly confused for a second before he said quietly, "I'm sorry, but I think you're in my seat."

The Doctor groaned, "I think someone may have been messing with my seats. _Someone," _he scowled, to the confusion of Grace and her husband, at his jacket pocket, in which his psychic paper lay. "Told me my seat was there, so I moved along a seat, and it's not even here."

"It's fine Mr..."

"Smith, erm, John Smith. Um, Doctor Smith." The Doctor stuttered.

"Doctor, it's fine," he smiled. "It's happened to me before, Broadway'll get a reputation for this soon."

"I just hope no-one shifts me from this seat, I'm running out of places to move to."

The man held out his hand, "I'm Marc, by the way."

"Good to meet you, Marc."

As the lights dimmed, Marc was forcefully pulled down by Grace. Quickly the Doctor skimmed through his programme. He loved Earth theatre. He leant back to watch the show.

----------

The male lead on stage, took a sip of the coffee offered to him by the, "I think you put something in here."  
The six foot actress, the Doctor was sure he had seen in something before, laughed, "Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!"

"I think you poisoned my coffee... Why?"

The woman, you could see through the binoculars, arched her eyebrows. "Why do you think?"

"Because I'm a sexist, egotistical, lying, hypocritical bigot?"

"Bingo," Violet grinned.

There was an explosion below, followed by a ray of light, the actor's on stage froze. After a shocked second the audience noticed fire, and screaming and panic arose. Grace, grabbed Marc's wrist and begun to move away before noticing the stationary Doctor, frowning at the area where the stream of light had beamed. "Doctor, aren't you...." She trailed off staring at him in equal shock to the way he had looked at her earlier. Marc pulled her off; she continued gawp as she moved away.

The stage had emptied all but for the actor who had been portraying Franklin Hart Junior, who was also staring curiously into the pits of the stall where a fire blazed. His gaze shifted when he suddenly saw a figure climbing from the Circle. He watched in astonishment as the man let go...

-------

The Doctor flew down through the hair, hoping his natural Cheem Rope would hold as well as he'd been promised, the roots at the top spread, grapple like over the Circle ledge speeding him down. An inch from the ground he stopped, heart racing he tugged it gently. Falling into his pocket he patted it, "Good rope."

Still panting he headed, curious as always for the purple tinted flames. "Aaaah," He grinned, his mouth agape in delight. "Griers Fire. I haven't seen Griers in years. You are gorgeous." The flames despite licking around the pit, was not harming the theatre, "And showing proper respect for a theatre, not razing the place to ground. If that's not polite I don't know what is." The fire leaned towards him in recognition. "We should find some way to get you out of here before, those nasty UNIT people arrive."

From behind him a female voice sounded, "Is that an optical illusion or something?"

The Doctor turned to see a brown haired man with side burns, wearing stage costume. "Was that you?"

"Yes." The actor sounded irritated, "I understudy the male roles as well as the females," Her voice deepened, "because I can do this."

"Right. Optical- Yes, that's exactly..." He grabbed her wrist, "Okay, no touch."

"If it's an illusion what can it do?"

"It's not an illusion, it can burn your arm off in less than a millisecond."

"No touch," she nodded, before stepping back. "So what is it?"

"Grier Fire, it's an alien... lifeform, I suppose you could say. But sometimes they can be a bit nasty. As friendly as this one seems... Well, would you want someone sticking their hand in you."

"Fair point," She held out her hand to him, "Reilly McLeod."

"The Doctor, you know, you're taking this very well."

Ignoring the second comment, Reilly grimaced, "The Doctor? Why do doctor's never just give you their name. I gave you mine and you answer, "Doctor". Manners would suggest that you give me your name."

"No, it is just... The Doctor. Just the Doctor."

"Right. Sure. If that's the way you want to work." Reilly scratched one of her sideburns. "Are you going to do something about it?" She pointed at the flames, which were steadily turning a deeper purple.

The Doctor who had been staring at her, snapped back to focus, "Yes, ah, do something... I should shouldn't I?"

"Well you're the one with all the expertise. _Doctor_." Reilly's voice dripped with sarcasm.

"_Molto bene_." The Doctor grinned.

"_Travail alors_."

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_Well? What do you think of Reilly? _


	2. Take Them Back

_A/N: Short chapter. I'm having a short chapter day._

Reilly watched the Doctor glance around, as if lost. "Why's it going purple?"

"Uh..." He stared into the Grier, "Purple? Purple!" His voice raised before falling again. "Purple. It is isn't it? Purple... Right, purple... purple, purple, purple..."

"Yes, it's going purple, "Reilly spoke through gritted teeth. "Why?"

Taking a metal instrument out of his pocket that emitted a high pitched buzz, and lit blue, Reilly grinned, bemused, "Do you try to be stereotypically sci-fi?"

The Doctor looked round, offended, "This is cutting edge, thank you very much."

"I'm just saying..."

"It's a sonic screwdriver. A unique self made, no other like it, sonic scewdriver."

"Hmmm, I'd like a sonic hammer right now," She grumbled, only half sarcastically. "Why do the smart ones never know anything?"

Ignoring her the Doctor began pacing. "Something came with it. Something came with the Fire. And the Fire's ill." He knelt down in front of it. "I promise, I'll help you, I'm the Doctor. But I need to know, what brought you here?"

Reilly's prepared cynical comment almost left her mouth when she heard, not heard… she didn't know what it was… said.

_Disease. Doctor. Death. Danger. Darkness. What Brings It, Doctor? Cannot Tell. Destruction. Time Lord And Actor Can Stop It? Try Doctor And Actor. Disease. Doctor. Death. Danger. Darkness. Actor Knows The Paths. Time Lord Knows The Ways._

Reilly understood little of what the Fire was talking about. She had no idea what a Time Lord was, or how this fire knew all this, and what "paths" did she know?

_Time Lord. Master Of Time And Space. The Destroyed Ones. The Great War. All Died But Doctor. _As the Doctor felt his story being told to the actor his eyes fought tears.

Reilly started seeing flashes of memories. Metal structures, gliding towards the cities of Gallifrey, the ships burning, the pain of the civilisation destroyed, the blazing fury in a man she vaguely recognised face, a man on the floor yelling out, _"Doctor, get out. Get__…_

"_Stop!_" She yelled out. She fell to the floor as she expelled the images from her brain. "No. I don't want to know what a Time Lord is. I don't. It's private. Those are his… his to share. Thank you, for trying… but I don't… I don't want to... to read his diary."

_You Are Strong. The Actor Must Help The Doctor. The Paths. The City._

Suddenly, the Fire extinguished. The Doctor stared at where it had been, not looking up, refusing to look at Reilly. She tentatively touched his shoulder, "Doctor?"

He turned, his eyes filled with sadness, "Yes."

"Take them back. I saw that you can. Please take them back. It isn't fair."

He looked at her, as if unsure, she nodded. "If you want to tell me someday, that's fine. But you did not choose to…" Her voice stopped faltering and returned to its usual crisp tones. "Doctor, just take them back."

He nodded, taking her head in his hands, spreading is fingers over her temples, "I'm going to have to search, so… if there's anything you don't want me to see-"

"Create a door. I have watched movies, Doctor." She rolled her eyes. "Doors barricaded, off you go, have fun."

The Doctor wished she would stop joking.

"Keep out of my jokes section." Reilly stated, as if it were her reading the thoughts.

After a minute he let go. A crash sounded I the lobby. "And UNIT arrives."

Reilly grinned, "So you need a guide round New York?"

The Doctor's voice rose defensively, "I haven't been here in a while!"

"So, where are we going and what are we looking for?"

Uniformed people began streaming in. The Doctor grabbed her and said, "First, we get out. _Run_."

_Reviews? Please. Thanks to anyone who did review but… I do have enabled anonymous reviews. It can be as short as "I liked it. it was good" or any variation on that. Even "UD soon". That tiny. Three seconds._


	3. Conspiracy Theorist Nutters

_Disclaimer: All the usual stuff._

_Note: This is for moonchild94 who has been my rant buddy for the last twenty-four hours (thank you) and who I promised to give a bit more about Reilly too. This is light, because I needed something light after the events of Torchwood last week. _

As the usually fit-and immodestly loud about it-Reilly caught up with the Doctor, panting heavily, she gasped, "Do you do marathons?"

"Wha-?" the Doctor looked at her as if she were mad, "Oh... no." He flashed her a wide toothy grin, "I just do one hell of a lot of running."

"I'll say." She looked up at him, he was glancing around a slight frown present on his brow. "You don't have the foggiest where you are, do you, Doc-itty, Doc, Doc?"

He waved his hand, not dismissively, but with an air of irritation, "No, and can you not do that?"

"Do what?" Reilly whipped round on the defensive, the Doctor jumped as her rougher natural Glaswegian dialect overrode both the American and English males she had already used, and the female Received Pronunciation with hints of Lancashire, that she commonly used in America.

Pulling himself together the Doctor answered, "Um, Docitty, Doc, Doc?"

"You call yourself "the Doctor", I am somewhat irritated by you not having a name."

"That's my name."

"No it's fucking not." Reilly rubbed her neck reverting back to the RP Lancashire, "I mean, it's just _not_ your name, not your real name at least. Just give me a normal name to call you. Christ, first "Just Tommy" now-" She whipped round almost punching the Doctor in his face with an overenthusiastic flourish. "Tommy? Tommy!"

"Who's Tommy?"

"Tommy! He's a nutter. Conspiracy theorist nutter, bloody hell, if there's one man who can help us it's Tommy. Come on."

Reilly opened up her shed, a black BMW sat inside, Reilly grabbed a helmet throwing it and a padded jacket at the Doctor, "Put those on."

The Doctor obliged, pulling on the slightly loose jacket and clipping on the helmet. "I'm more a scooter man, but…"

Reilly was already pulling it out. "It's an HP2 Sport, now get out my garage!"

The Doctor bounced over, Reilly was already mounted. She turned, peering out the side of her helmet. "You ridden before?"

"Yes."

She grinned, although the Doctor couldn't see it on her mouth, he could in her shining chestnut-brown eyes. Quickly he checked himself, those kind of thoughts about humans surfaced to his mind all too often these days, _damn hormones, and Grace Holloway_. Reilly tapped the back seat. "Ah, but have you ridden on the back?"

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Tommy, that's just Tommy, by the way, flung open his door. His dark hair combed over in a far right, side parting, a neat bow tie, his white-grey, pinstriped shirt done up to the collar, a tweed jacket open, in his hand he held a brown bowler hat, a wide grin on his face, "Reilly!" Drawing out the "ei" into an "aaa". "What can I do for you?"

Reilly opened her mouth before closing it again, allowing the Doctor to step in to introduce himself, "Hi I'm th-" He paused seeing pictures of some of his previous regenerations on the wall, "I'm John Smith."

Reilly looked at him, a smile playing on her lips, "_John_, was wanting to know if anything odd had happened within the last two days, in New York. State-wide?"

"Odd in what way? Odd as in Reilly-using-ten-different-accents-a-day odd, or aliens-landing-Reilly-scoffing-Tommy odd?"

Reilly took a deep and irritable breath in, "The second one."

"Yes!" Tommy yelled, punching his arms in the air, "You've finally been converted."

"Tommy." Reilly's tone was threatening.

"I hate to cut in," The Doctor waved is hand. "But… strange events?"

"Oh yes, sorry, Mr Smith." Tommy went over to a desk, one of five in the house. "I'm sure it's here somewhere…"

Reilly yanked the Doctor inside, Tommy continued emptying his desk. "Bingo, this was found yesterday by one of my colleagues."

The Doctor took the object from him and muttered, "Atmos."


	4. It's The Doctor!

_A/N: This chapter is for Tiva4evaxxx (as she now has internet and is talking to me again) and moonchild94, who remains my panic buddy… not to mention button. Okay, please note, if there's not a lot of action in some of these chapters, it's because I'm doing character development in my head and I can't help it if there's a lot of dialogue or no plot development. This fic is purely made to introduce Reilly, the plot I'm making up as I go along._

_Disclaimer: The usual._

"Atmos?" Reilly asked.

Tommy and the Doctor, despite the difference in accent, replied in unison, "Atmospheric Omission System."

"You two enjoy speaking a different language from the rest of the…" She glanced at the Doctor. "... People on this planet. Don't you?"

"Yes," They two men replied. The Doctor continued. "Look at that."

At the same moment, the Doctor, Tommy and Reilly whipped out a set of glasses from their jacket, the rectangular thick framed, the round thin black frames and the frameless clear lenses leant over the oblong object. Reilly sniggered at them all, being the only one who noticed as the Doctor continued, "this is a new model. Mark II, I haven't seen it before, why was it just lying around? Even the Sontaran aren't that stupid, surely."

"How do you know that? Sontatan? Do you know who he is, the Doctor?" Tommy looked at him in surprise. "Do you track him too?"

"Who?" The Doctor played innocent.

"The Doctor. He's an alien, a Time Lord. Scattered across history, with a trail of destruction following him. They say he was at the Battle of Canary Wharf in London, the Iowa Cover-up in the eighties. But… I think this Doctor's the good guy. You know like in the Lord of the Rings-" Reilly gave a disparaging sigh. "-when Wormtongue accuses Gandalf of brining the storm, as opposed to riding against it, following the storm and saving the Universe!"

The Doctor nodded, looking smug, "You know, Tommy, I think you're right."

"Thank you, Mr… Smith, was it?"

"Yes, John Smith."

Tommy took a step back, pointing. "The… the… picture… sent… yesterday… My… Lord… you…" He sent a file flying, paper fluttering out in all directions. He grabbed one of them, "Mister… John Smith, Deffry Vale High School, lights in the sky… your picture matches… The Doctor." He staggered back, grabbing a camera from his desk. Before the Doctor could react to this outburst, he was blinded by a Polaroid flash, followed by two others. "It…. It is an-n-n honour, sir, you meet you." He took another photo, this time putting his head ion beside the Doctor's. "Oh my… Can I help you in any..? Oh my god, it's the end of the world isn't it. The Doctor on my, of all peoples, doorstep…" He grabbed the Doctor. "Is it the end of the world?"

The Doctor glanced sideways at Reilly who was inspecting "The Regeneration Board", ignored her friend, "Was this really you?"

"Um… Yes." Attempting to shake off the man clinging to his coat.

"What's with the scarf?"

"That got me out of a lot of tricky situation, I'll have you know."

"Sure." Reilly very deliberately drew out the vowel.

Tommy waved his hands, letting go. "End of the world? Atmos? Sontaran? Am I the only one who cares?"

Reilly turned on the balls of her feet, "Doctor, how many times have you encountered these Sontaran?"

"Six or seven times."

"How many times have you overcome any threat that they posed?"

"Six or seven times."

"In that case I'm not duly worried.. How old are you?"

The Doctor looked offended, "Have I asked you how old you are?"

"Good point, no, I'm twenty-six, Tommy's forty-eight."

"Oi!" Tommy yelped, losing track of his utter, flustered excitement for a second. "I'm still forty-seven."

-----

"Marshal Maal." A dark, dome headed Sontaran, wearing the dark oil blue armour of the Sontaran Special Forces stepped forth.

"Major Theel." He stiffly stepped to face the 'younger' warrior.

"The Doctor has found our trap, sir."

"Excellent work. Is the declaration of war complete yet?"

"No sir." Theel saluted and stepped back.

"All in good time."

Maal gazed out through the window, the Sontaran _would_ not fail the Earth Mission this time.

_Sort I know, pointless, certainly, but I wouldn't mind a review, any suggestions for more Patrick reacting to the Doctor? Anything?_


End file.
